Wake-Up Call
by riptydes
Summary: Misaki is determined to have his revenge. Usagi/Misaki. Lemon.


"Mm… ahh, n-no, Usagi-san…!"

Misaki was dreaming, and even in his sleep he was embarrassed, face flushing a bright red and trying to stifle his cries, but he also didn't want the dream to end. Part of him was already becoming aware enough to feel the sheets tangled about his legs, the sheen of sweat making his hair cling to his forehead, but he must have been still half-asleep because the exquisite sensations continued anyway. He gave another desperate moan, his body shuddering, as in the dream Usagi's hair tickled the insides of his thighs and Usagi's mouth – teasing, wicked – worked up and down, hot and wet and so perfectly timed as to–

"Ah! _Usagi-san_!"

And then a low chuckle had Misaki snapping his eyes open, body jerking to full wakefulness as he realized the dream was real and Usagi… Usagi, between his legs, looking thoroughly debauched and thoroughly self-satisfied…

Misaki gave a screech of mortification, attempting to jerk the sheets up enough to gain a little modesty but only succeeding in making Usagi grin. "U-Usagi-san! What are you–"

"Well, your alarm wouldn't shut up and you were still fast sleep, looking entirely too adorable I might add. I thought it best to get you… up, some other way."

"So you _molested_ me in my _sleep_?"

Usagi raised an eyebrow. "You didn't seem to be objecting."

"That's only because I… because your… idiot Usagi! Pervert!"

"Well, so long as it worked I suppose. You're definitely awake now, right? Also… aren't you running late?"

Misaki glanced over at the clock and gave another screech, this time of panic as he saw what time it was. Telling Usagi off would have to wait – there would barely be time to shower and change, and even so he would need to skip breakfast. Still, he made sure to level his fiercest glare at Usagi as he rushed from the room with an armful of clothes.

Infuriatingly, Usagi was still eyeing him up and down like Misaki was some kind of edible delicacy, and Misaki quickly averted his gaze. Better make it a _cold_ shower.

* * *

Amazingly, Misaki awoke in plenty of time before his alarm went off the next morning. He shifted his head slightly to see that the light was still soft – it was barely dawn, and Usagi was still breathing deeply and evenly beside him, looking far more innocent than he ever did when he was awake. Eyes open, the author often reminded Misaki of a big cat – lazy and indolent at times, dangerously unpredictable and with a strong tendency to pounce at others. Now though, his face was devoid of expression and utterly peaceful, no predatory smirk to lift the corners of his mouth or narrowed, calculating gaze.

Misaki simply watched Usagi for a while, drinking in the unfamiliar sight, until the beginnings of a plan began to formulate. A daring, highly risky plan to be sure, but once thought of he could not get it out of his mind.

He, Takahashi Misaki, had a chance to claim his revenge.

Of course, it could all go spectacularly wrong in a heartbeat. What if he started and then lost his nerve? Even worse, what if he started and Usagi actually woke up before Misaki had the chance to even do anything? Then he'd not only be caught red-handed but would also have to explain himself to a less-than-impressed and possibly very grouchy Usagi, who would do god-knew-what in retaliation for waking him so early in the morning. Usagi had pulled an all-nighter, and that normally meant he wouldn't want to be up and about until the afternoon.

But could that be just what Misaki needed in order to pull his plan off? If Usagi was really that sleepy, then Misaki had a far better chance of succeeding than he otherwise would.

He swallowed, mouth gone suddenly dry. Yes. He'd do it. He'd show that idiot Usagi who was the _real_ mastermind and hopefully teach him a valuable lesson in the process.

Slowly, carefully, Misaki eased the sheet over his head and slithered down the bed, trying not to breathe too harshly despite the pounding in his chest. Well, of course he'd be nervous, he reasoned, he hadn't exactly had any practice at this, it didn't mean he was actually going to _enjoy_ –

Oh god, was he really up to this? Under the covers, the light was dim but not too dim to see by, and as his head drew level with his object of interest, Misaki was already having second thoughts. Just picturing it was one thing, but carrying it out in reality was quite another, especially when it was quite literally staring at him in the face.

Misaki's fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. No. He could do this. Usagi did it to him all the time like it was nothing, and now it was time for payback. Who knew when he might get another chance like this?

Hesitantly, unsure of what exactly to expect, Misaki ran his tongue over the tip of Usagi's already-impressive arousal. And…

… Nothing happened. The sky didn't fall. Usagi didn't squirm, didn't grunt. Still fast asleep, Usagi paid Misaki no mind whatsoever, and that gave Misaki courage. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.

He resumed his attentions, still working slowly for fear of discovery and reprisal at any moment, but warming to his task when Usagi just lay there, gaining enough confidence to open his mouth and suck a little like Usagi himself so often did.

 _That_ earned a reaction, and Misaki paused until Usagi settled again, though even from under the covers he could hear Usagi's breath quicken. So far so good – although Misaki hadn't quite counted on the tightness in his own stomach, the fact that his heartbeat, far from slowing down, had only increased its speed.

He closed his eyes, striving for calmness, and continued in his task. Usagi was hot and hard and smelt undeniably of sex, and Misaki heard a strangled gasp from somewhere above him as he took Usagi in deeper.

One of Misaki's hands was wandering down to the bottom half of his pajamas. Was this supposed to happen? Was he supposed to feel like this? He gave an experimental stroke and had to concentrate, _hard_ , in order to keep the rhythm of his mouth around Usagi's length steady. Damnit. This wasn't meant to be some kind of twisted role play, he wasn't a pervert like Usagi, he'd only wanted…

Misaki might have groaned in frustration if he wasn't otherwise fully occupied. He sucked harder instead, refusing to stop now that he had come this far, determined to see his plan through to the end. The taste of Usagi was building and Misaki's fingers gave an involuntary squeeze, his thighs clenching where he knelt on hands and knees beneath the sheets. He was panting, the heat and lack of air making him sweat, but he knew he was probably close. Usagi was definitely reacting, and Misaki was only astonished that the older man had somehow managed not to wake up yet.

Misaki was working in earnest now, head bobbing as he took Usagi all the way in and, lower down, his hand stroking hard and fast, pajama pants bunched around his legs. God, it felt so good, it was something he'd never really imagined before, was _this_ why Usagi insisted on doing it to Misaki all the time? He could almost see why, maybe to someone as warped as Usagi it might even get addictive, just like he obsessed over nearly everything else in his life–

" _Misaki!_ "

 _There_. That was it. It was exactly what he'd been waiting for. For Usagi to call out _his_ name like that for a change, for Usagi to be the one to writhe and moan and beg–

"Ahh!" Misaki's hand had brought him teetering to the edge and now he jerked and cried out, the sound muffled by his still busily working mouth, spending into his closed fist as, only a few seconds later, the full taste of Usagi followed.

Misaki choked and drew back, releasing Usagi to wipe at his mouth. Had he done it? Was Usagi–

The sheets were whipped back and Misaki stared up at a wide-eyed, tousled-haired author. "Misaki…"

Misaki wanted to laugh a little hysterically at the sight of him, at the name spoken like Usagi was in a state of shock.

"Yes?" he said as innocently as he could while probably looking about as debauched as Usagi usually did. He pointedly did not look down at his obviously damp and rumpled pajamas, still puddled about his knees so that Usagi would be getting a good eyeful at the evidence of Misaki's own arousal.

"You… what the hell were you just–"

Misaki didn't know quite how to reply, and they stared at each other a moment longer before Usagi was suddenly sweeping Misaki up into his arms and kissing him, all tongue and teeth and wandering, grasping hands.

It wasn't precisely how Misaki had imagined the rest of his little revenge scenario to go, and he knew he ought to pull away so that Usagi could see he was serious – that he hadn't done this to please Usagi but rather to get back at him – yet somehow, he could not yet bring himself to care.

"Misaki…"

Far from being irritable at the early hour, Usagi sounded like Misaki had given him some priceless gift. Despite the audacity of his previous actions, it made Misaki abruptly, unaccountably shy. "Um… good morning, Usagi-san…"

"Oh, Misaki…" Usagi grinned at him, brushing wisps of Misaki's hair almost reverently from his forehead. "Good morning, indeed."


End file.
